


Through the Night

by commander_connivingcat



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU, Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21968110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commander_connivingcat/pseuds/commander_connivingcat
Summary: Prompto has been daemonified and sent out to kill Noctis. Will his mission be successful or will fate intervene?
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22
Collections: FFXV Minibang 2019





	Through the Night

In the total absence of sound, Prompto knew he should be able to hear his own heart beat, but for the life of him

he couldn’t. 

It wasn’t just his heartbeat that was gone, though, he couldn’t hear his breath as his lungs grasped for air or the cries tearing from his lips for help. It felt like every bit of borrowed existence Prompto had held onto for himself was gone, lost somewhere in the neverending darkness around him. Trapped by his own frozen body, all Prompto could do was wait and hope that someone would find him. 

Tap…  
Tap…  
Tap…

Footsteps rang out in the darkness. Warm hope boomed in the gunslinger’s heart. 

“Noct?” Prompto whimpered. Please, he would give anything to see his best friend’s face now. In his heart, Prompto knew beyond all doubt that Noctis would come for him...but his brain knew otherwise. 

The putrid taste of sludge bubbled up to fill Prompto’s mouth, almost drowning him as cold reality stole any hope he had. 

“Hmmm, I’m afraid not...” Prompto’s captor emerged from the shadows: Ardyn. 

Everything about the chancellor was so inviting, but somehow...wrong. It made Prompto’s skin crawl. He smelled like earthy woods when he entered, but trailed a smell like sulfur when he left. His eyes glistened playfully, until darkness stared back. 

“Ah, still here, are we? Caught somewhere between daemon and whelp?” Ardyn leaned in to look closer at Prompto; A predator waiting for its prey to be served. He grabbed Prompto’s chin in his hand, turning his head to get a better look at his progress, before throwing him away, dissatisfied. 

Ardyn paced the room, fiddling with the hat in his hands. “Tch. Nothing. I had such high hopes you would be capable of doing just one thing correctly... you would make a lovely daemon, too.”

Suddenly, the chancellor froze. “Perhaps…” he spoke hardly loud enough to be heard. In one swift turn, he was upon his prey. Black eyes were all Prompto could see. 

“Perhaps you are some use to me this way…”

Prompto awoke with a start. 

That dream again…  
It was always that dream. 

Cold hands gripped the tattered sheets at his waist. Sleep could bring him no pleasure with dreams like these.   
Life would be so much easier if it was just a dream. 

The hotel room Prompto had spent the last few hours in had once been a thing of luxury, but now, like the rest of this world, it lay in ruin. Tattered silk curtains flowed in the wind from the shattered windows. The mattress smelled like mold and the pillow was crumbling. But it was a place away from the rest of the world. A place Prompto could hide in. 

Brittle leaves crunched under the gunslinger’s feet as he got up and wandered to the mirror in the bathroom. Where morning sunlight once mimicked his visage, only the last embers of dusk remained. His pale skin had a gray tint, his canines showed prominently in his smile, and his once bright hair had a distinctly dustier tint to it. But the most noticeable change was his eyes” Dark eyes started back at Prompto from the grimy mirror. Eyes just like Ardyn’s…

“Hey, ugly. You’d think I’d be used to seeing you by now.” The figure in the mirror was one that Prompto easily recognized but, nevertheless, despised. Each day it was a figure more familiar to him. Each day, the figure became more of him. 

Prompto trapsed out of the hotel room, grabbing his jacket as he left. Gladio and Ignis would be miles from Lestallum by now; a perfect time to remind them. A sinister smile crossed Prompto’s lips at the idea. In moments, shadows emerged to creep up his body.. Soon, he was one with the night. 

For the past ten years, Prompto had been reminding Gladio and Ignis of their sins. He made sure they wouldn’t forget him: the man they didn’t help; the friend they chose not to help. 

Many days, he’d just appear to them. Sometimes he’d sit on the edge of Lestallum, in the shadows of the city’s great lights. Humming to himself or eating something. Just enough to remind them who Prompto had been. In the hours that his old friends tried to sleep, he’d call out to them, sounding like the man they once knew. Those words that sounded like hope, but were steeped in misery. 

Once in a great while, Prompto would make sure their mission turned sour. Rarely did he let any refugees die, but he would let some disappear long enough to season the day with sadness and panic. Most of the time, he’d just make the mission take twice as long by being a devious pain in the ass. 

Now, the sight of Prompto brought about feelings of pain, hatred, and guilt for the men. Gladio would shout at Prompto from a distance, sometimes locking blades with him. Ignis would try his hardest to reason with his old friend, but eventually, a dagger always flew. Regardless, Prompto knew his friends would never forget him or their guilt. 

Today, Ignis and Gladio were escorting refugees towards Hammerhead. Prompto sat on one of the dark cliffs above them, whistling away, letting the three of them perform the act they were so used to: Gladio, poised to strike should the half-daemon make a sudden move, Ignis trying to plan out what his bitter friend would do, and Prompto, simply sat and enjoyed the attention. 

But today was different. Today, a single star shone in the dark sky above, pointed out by one of the refugees. Together, the daemon, the refugees, and the sinners looked up at it, admiring the strange light. A warm wind blew, ruffling Prompto’s hair as he stared up at the sky. It felt like a hand on his head. Like something familiar. 

The warmth came from the ocean.

The shadows collesqued, bringing Prompto to the top of a cliff overlooking what had once been Cape Caem. One thing stuck out: a stark white boat had docked in the dark ocean. A figure stood next to it. 

Hope whispered sweet nothings to the gunslinger, but cold logic told him it would be just another daemon. Prompto summoned his sniper rifle from the magic Ardyn had granted him and peered through its scope.

Hope had been right. In the crosshairs stood Noctis Lucis Caelum. 

Could it really be him, though? Prompto rose from the scope, then looked again, unsure if what he saw would still be there. 

He was. 

The man standing on the dock looked little like the prince Prompto had known. Now, he looked far more like the King of Light. There was no mistaking it: that was Noctis. Sure, this man looked older, tired, grungier, and far too skinny. But his eyes…

For the first time in a lifetime, Prompto remembered things he thought he had left in another lifetime:Taking pictures by the Regalia, racing chocobos, hunting down endless bounties,and falling asleep under the stars. In every memory, Noctis was there, smiling at his best friend. In those moments, the world was filled with light and their moments were carefree. 

But reality pulled the gunslinger back. Here was Noctis, the King of Light. Here stood the man who had been Prompto’s best friend for so many years, the man who drove him to be the best version of himself. Here was the person Prompto wanted to be beside for so many years: to make laugh, to hold when he cried, to protect, and to make memories with. Noctis was the first person to accept Prompto for who he was, flaws and all. The man who helped him achieve more than he ever thought possible. Here stood the man who escaped reality to bury himself in the crystal, leaving his best friend in the clutches of a madman. 

All the happiness Noctis had brought Prompto belonged to a man long dead. 

But a pang in his heart made Prompto lower his gun. He watched numbly as the scene unfolded: Noctis beat back daemons with ease before wandering up the hill and getting into a passing truck. Soon, the episode was over. 

The Citadel had always been imposing to Prompto, especially when he was a child. To the young boy, the building looked far too big and cold to hold such nice people as Prince Noctis and King Regis. Now, the aesthetic fit. 

Walking up to the building, Cerberus, the king of daemons, greeted the young sniper. The beast was one of Ardyn’s early “experiments” with his daemonic powers. It sat and lowered its head as Prompto approached. 

Practically prancing up to it, Prompto began to pet the middle head. “Who’s a good boy? You are! Yes you are!” Prompto pat the ears of each head in turn and played with the beast as though it was a mere puppy, making it fall over and pant. 

But Prompto could not stay long. Today, he had a mission. His master had summoned him but not given reason as to why. 

Trying to hide the fear and confusion that he felt, Prompto threw open the doors of the Citadel and marched inside. In the throne room, just as he expected, sat the interim king. 

“Ah, Prompto my boy! What a pleasant surprise!” Ardyn greeted him. 

“Not as big a surprise as...someone.” Prompto retorted. 

“So you’ve seen him. Good. Then perhaps...larger plans are at finally at work.” Each word followed the beat of a song only the jester knew. “I trust you know what to do?” Those words typically told Prompto to “figure it out” or that Ardyn didn’t care what outcome came of a problem. Today, the gunslinger wasn’t eager for answers from this source. 

Prompto bowed to his master before spinning on his heel. “I sure hope so,” he muttered.

The neon lights of the gas station illuminated the turrets of the last bastion before Insomnia. Somewhere within the audacious light was that familiar mess of black hair, of that Prompto was sure. 

From his post across the old highway, Prompto could see everything: Cindy busying herself with cleaning guns, Talcott working on the vehicles, and Gladio and Ignis setting off to build camp at the old site. Finally, just as Prompto’s legs were starting to cramp, Noctis left the diner and headed out to camp.

Noctis’s new boots crunched on the barren soil. He looked lost in the darkness,unfamiliar with the workings of this world and still awkward in his body. Each step was taken by someone far too cognizant of their posture. Until they stopped. 

The shadows watched the young king turn on his toes to face the void. From the darkness, Prompto emerged. 

The daemon strode forward. “Well, well, well, what have we here?”

“Gladio and Ignis warned me that you’d show up.” Noct posed for battle, but his hands lay empty at his sides. He stared at Prompto for a moment, taking it all in. 

Before him stood a man trapped in a creature’s body. Gray skin and dark eyes told Noctis he needed to attack, but somewhere in the darkness, a man stared back. The same man Noctis had known for much of his life. 

The man who had saved him from countless royal duties. The man who taught him what it meant to have fun, that he was allowed to be normal, and the man who became his guiding light. He had gone through so much of his life wanting to protect that smile, wanting to help it grow, and knowing he would do anything if it meant getting to see it again. 

But in this darkness, the smile was gone. Still...so much of Prompto remained. 

Noctis’s eyes lay locked on his old friend, but they moved from caution to something new. Something Prompto didn’t expect to see in them: happiness. 

For a moment, Prompto was taken aback. “What?! Why are are you staring at me like that?! Do you get some sick joy from this?! BECAUSE YOU DID THIS?!”

Noctis stared on until finally he found the words he had been searching for. 

“I missed you, Prompto. I’m glad you to see you.” 

The gunslinger stood breathless. “MISSED ME?!” He began to laugh. “YOU...missed me?” 

“Yes, Prompto. I missed my best friend.” Noctis continued, his voice shaking despite his best efforts. 

Prompto’s laughed began to slow. His eyes fully opened, weeping tears of inchor. 

“YOU CREATED ME!”

After being thrown from the train and escaping Versateal, Prompto thought he was in the clear. All he knew was to head towards Gralea. With any luck, Prompto hoped the guys would still be there. He remembered the bone chilling air on his face as he raced towards the city, hope fueling him. While heading at full speed on the snowmobile in the blinding snow, everything suddenly went dark. The last warmth of the world was sucked away as Prompto’s ears were filled with that astral damned laughter. On those dark wings, he beat his friends to Gralea. 

Prompto was never sure if his friends even looked for him. They were handed another one of Versatael’s clones and were fooled ever so easily. They never had time to question the man beside them between fighting endless waves of daemons, finding the Crystal, and fighting Ardyn. The clone helped to lead Noctis to the Crystal, going so far as to push him in. 

The last time Noctis saw his best friend was as he was being drug into Bahamut’s realm. The evil clone watched him go, sneering, before being shot down by a corrupted Prompto. 

Prompto had blamed Ardyn, Ignis, Gladio, and even Noctis for what had happened to him. How could they have been so stupid as to not tell the other Prompto was a clone? Did they even care about that?Or did they just care about Noctis and the damned crystal? Did they know the pain they had caused him? For years he had questioned what had happened, coming to different conclusions. With each conclusion, one thing was constant: Prompto’s anger at what had happened. 

He wasn’t human anymore. He could never walk in the light again or taste food. He could hear what daemons said to each other. His skin pricked with pain each time he used his newly granted powers, powers granted by a maniacal master that he could not escape. For his master controlled the very air he breathed, choking him with black sludge if he misbehaved. If Prompto could even still be considered alive, then his life was nothing but pain. 

But staring at his reflection in Noctis’s eyes, he started to wonder: Was this really all their fault? Prompto stared down at the hands of dead man. How did I let myself get this way? 

He felt the ten years worth of hatred, anger, and resentment well up inside his chest, suddenly threatening to burst. It was the same feelings that had pushed him to survive all these years, but now, he saw them for what they really were: the poisons slowly killing him. But could he just...let go of them?

“Prom?” Noctis asked, calling him from his reflections. 

Prompto looked up into his face again. The face that so suddenly looked like Regis’s. The face that was the product of generations of royal breeding and coddling. The face of someone with great skills and an even bigger destiny. The face of the only person who had mattered on the journey. 

The face that made Prompto be forgotten. 

A gunshot rang out through the valley. Blood trickled down Noctis’s right arm. Prompto stared at the ground still, not even having to aim. 

“Don’t call me that. We’re not friends.” Prompto left the words with Noctis as he stepped into the darkness. 

Ignis and Gladio ran towards Noctis from the campsite, having heard the gunshot. Noctis looked down, finally realizing how badly he was bleeding and moving to hold his arm. 

“This isn’t going to be easy.”

It was strange for Noctis to stare up at the gates to Insomnia . He always thought he’d have Prompto by his side when this day came. But he stole his courage, now was not the time to turn back. 

Prompto stood beside Ardyn, looking over Insomnia from the steps of the Citadel. The day had finally arrived. 

“It’s your call. What do you want me to do with them?” Prompto asked the Usurper through clenched teeth. There wasn’t a response Ardyn could give that he would like, but the corruption in his veins wouldn’t let him forget who his master was. 

Ardyn simply smiled as he turned on his heel and strode back towards the throne room. “You’re unnecessary; do with your little friends as you please.” 

And with a single step, the two kings each crossed the threshold of destiny. 

With a great swing of his blade, Gladio felled the naga, only to have two more take its place. Through gritted teeth and rising panic, the three men fought through the onslaught on the main street. 

Suddenly, the daemons stilled, completely frozen in time. Back to back, the three men stood together, ready to fight the advancing threat and their own fear. The beasts started to part,and from their ranks, Prompto stode. 

“I had a feeling we’d meet you here,” Ignis began, raising his spelldagger to face Prompto. Much the advisor’s dismay, though, Noctis raised a hand to stop him. 

“Oh! The Prince is going to let me speak! I’m honored!” Prompto jested, playing at a bow towards Noctis. 

“That’s King now…” Noctis corrected him, a scowl on his lips. 

“Um, I’m afraid you’re wrong!” Prompto whispered back, ever so gently. “You see, someone else sits on the throne. Right. This. Very. Second.” He wagged his finger like a metronome. “But I’ll tell you what. I’ll let you get to Ardyn, if you say ‘hello’ for me...” He stood, finger to the sky, waiting expectantly for an answer. 

The three other men looked between each other. Gladio broke the silence,“What?” 

Prompto smiled with sinister joy. He had waited a long time for this moment. “If you...SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND!” He summoned the bazooka from his arsenal, letting it fire wildly over the mens’ heads. Without further persuasion, the four men scattered into the city. 

Throughout the city, gunshots rang as each man embarked on the most dangerous hunt of their lives. A lifetime ago, Prompto and Noctis had run up and down the streets of Insomnia racing towards the next big event. Under Eos’s bright sun, they were children, where daemons only existed outside the city walls. The city had been a much different place then. Filled with smiling faces and warm light. Back then, neither boy could imagine what this life would bring. Now, tears stained the dark remnants of the city. 

Around what had once been familiar corners, Noctis now had to dodge bullets. With each breath, Prompto had to convince himself that he was doing the right thing. 

Finally, Prompto took a chance to end the battle. He always knew he was crap with hand to hand combat, but Noct kept dodging every bullet. If the King got to Ardyn, far worse things would happen to him than death. 

From the shadows the grey skinned spector rose. Before his eyes, a true king stood. Both men moved. Prompto’s jagged blade clashed against Noctis’s royal arms. He backed away, then rushed forward! Again, they clashed like lightning in the night. But neither side gained the advantage. 

“FIGHT ME!” Prompto cried, sick of Noctis’s constant defense. 

“NO!” Noctis cried back. 

Infuriated with his response, Prompto attacked again. When their blades met, Prompto threw his weight behind his, pressing Noctis into the fight. 

“C’mon, Kingy, you used to be able to take me…” he sneered. 

“And you used to be my friend…” Noctis replied. Prompto’s eyes narrowed and he backed away. 

“If I was your friend, why did you let this,”he gestured to himself, “happen?!” Silence fell as the fighting stilled. 

Noctis couldn’t meet Prompto’s eyes.”I didn’t.” He muttered.

“You what now?” Prompto put his hand to his ear. “I couldn’t hear you. You didn’t do something? It wasn’t your fault?! HOW CONVENIENT! Nothing is ever your fault! Everything always happened to the Crown Prince! He was always so innocent!” Years of hatred poured out of his mouth before he could stop it. 

Noctis snapped to face Prompto, tears in his eyes. “MAYBE IT IS MY FAULT! YOU KNOW WHAT, It probably is! And now...Now I don’t know how to fix it!”

“Yeah, obviously! Just like you can’t fix the neverending darkness, so here we are!” Prompto stared at the man before him. For an instant, the scared prince he had always known shown through. 

The Prince who worked so hard and did everything he was told to do, but was always afraid of what the adults weren’t telling him. It was that boy, that friend, that Prompto had promised he would always be honest with. Even if no one else would, he wouldn’t hide anything from his best friend. 

He wanted so badly to reach out for his friend. But every ounce of darkness in his veins was screaming for him to kill the man before him. 

“Prom…” Noctis whispered. But Prompto’s body reacted without him. Their blades clashed again, but the King was faster. Noctis pushed him back with all his might, throwing Prompto to the ground. 

Towering above him, Prompto had to admit Noctis had grown up well. The blade at his throat finally matched the man wielding it. But the welcome cold of steal on skin was all too fast removed. 

“I can’t…I won’t.” Noctis whispered, tears streaming down his face. 

Prompto grabbed the blade and recentered it. “You have to! Please! End this! All of this! Only you can!” Through those eyes, Prompto saw the friend he remembered. Those bright eyes...

“Prompto...it’s not all me. It never was. You’re part of this too.”

Visions of cheering each other on, of playing games by the campfire, of taking pictures through the cities. Everything they had done together. 

“Part of this? Part of what?”

“All of this.” Noctis sent his blade away. 

“But...what’s left?” Prompto asked, looking around. The city was dark and empty. Everything was cold. Still, Noctis bent over and held his hand out to him. 

“I am…”

With all the strength of the astrals, Prompto fought the darkness in his veins. He fought all the hatred and pain in his soul. He couldn’t change what had happened, but he could change who he fought beside. 

He reached out and took his best friend’s hand. 

Under the dark sky, four men faced down the citadel and it’s guardian. The first battle was short lived as Prompto sent Cerberus away with an ear scratch, much to his old friends amazement. The god awaiting them was another story. 

The battle raged, but little headway was made. Prompto knew what had to be done. He started to draw Ifrit’s fire, taking everything alone. The other men watched in horror as Ifrit engulfed the man in flames, only for Prompto to walk through them. 

“Go on. I’m part daemon, remember? It’ll take more than that to kill me.” He shot finger guns at his friends, trying his hardest to make them believe him. 

Noctis’s eyes filled with pain, though. “Promise?” 

Prompto smiled back at him. “Ever at your side.” 

Noctis nodded before heading inside to meet fate. 

Ifrit didn’t leave time to be sentimental. The heat on Prompto’s skin from the astral’s attacks was greater than anything he had experienced in a very long time. It reminded him of days in the sun on the greatest journey of his life. 

That day they had been running through the forests of Duscae. Looking back on it, he couldn’t even remember why they had been running, but it turned into a race. Gladio and Ignis competed for the lead, with Prompto coming in at a very proud third. They were laughing and yelling when Noctis let out a loud groan. He was “sick of this stupid running”. His little tantrum made the other three laugh, sending Noctis further into pouting. Finally, Prompto came to his rescue and offered to carry him on his back. It was a comical sight as Prompto could barely lift the Prince, but he wasn’t about to put him down. He struggled with with each step, but Noct’s comforting warmth at his back kept him going as long as he could. 

Ifrit’s fury blazed through the air, striking Prompto again. It brought searing pain, but also warmth. Every fiber in his body hurt, but he wouldn’t let it show. Not now! Not when he was standing up for everything he had ever wanted. 

Wonder if the guys could forgive me.

His mind wandered as a gunshot rang through the air followed by Ifrit’s roar. But one mere bullet wasn’t going to stop the mighty god. 

Ignis...

Prompto fanned the hammer of his gun, hoping to injure Ifrit’s foot. But even this typically weak spot didn’t seem to affect him. 

Gladio...

The bazooka’s last shot was taken. It had been a fun toy for many years, but it’s time was over as it lay a melted pile of scrap on the pavement. 

Noctis...

Ifrit ran towards him, completely ablaze. Prompto thought frantically, trying his hardest to figure out what to do. His gun felt so small in his hands and he was out of every other bullet. But what more did he have? Ignis had his incredible intelligence, Gladio had superhuman strength, Noctis had royal magic, but what did Prompto have? 

The old Prompto thought he didn’t have anything. That Prompto had his friends, his family, and his aim. Then everything changed. 

Prompto lost his humanity, his friends, and his freedom. But today, he got at least two of those things back. And maybe, he didn’t need the third. 

“If I can face myself, I can face you.” He stared down the astal and grinned. Shadows swirled and grew around his feet and his eyes grew blacker,until only darkness remained. The shadows lashed out from him, forming great tendrils that ensnared the oncoming god. 

Ifrit roared as he fought the shadows, but Prompto was determined and, most importantly, not alone. His whistle filled the courtyard and echoed through the city. 

And three howls answered back. 

On armored feet the king of daemons ran to protect his friend. Skidding to a stop beside the gunslinger. Each head snapped and snarled at the angry god, just waiting for a simple command. 

“Sick ‘em.” 

Cerberus attacked the god with the might of all of Eos. Each head thrashed and tore at astral flesh as Prompto run across his friend’s back to fire on Ifrit from above. The onslaught continued until Ifrit broke free of the shadows holding him. 

As the god blazed back to strength, Cerberus rose up to challenge him. In an otherworldly inferno, the god and the daemon matched blazes. All of Insomnia felt the heat. 

But the astral did not tire as the daemon did. Just as it looked like Ifrit would prove the astral’s unending strength, Prompto stepped forward under Cerberus’s chin. With true aim, he fired. And the astral’s cry shook the night. 

Cerberus and Prompto sat together on the steps of the castle, overlooking a field of ashes. The great beast nuzzled his injured friend, uneasy about the future. His mood was shared by Prompto. It had been hours and no one had emerged from the Citadel. 

But Prompto knew he could not enter the dark building. Ardyn would surely use him against his friends...if any of them still stood. 

A soft voice came to the gunslinger on the chill night winds. “Fear can be a tool of caution, but it is unnecessary now.” Prompto looked up to find yet another astral before him: Shiva. She still took Gentiana’s form, but he had learned long ago she was not what she seemed. 

“Huh?” Is all he had the energy to ask. 

She smiled down at him. “You have done well, but the journey is about to end.” Prompto stared up at her, the cold realization washing over him. 

It was over. That could only mean one thing: Noct was dying. 

His head dropped as he tried to process what was going on. Everything was over, but he wasn’t beside his king. He promised Noctis he would be at his side! After everything that had gone wrong, everything he had DONE wrong, he couldn’t break this promise now!

Prompto sprang to his feet. “I have to be there.” Shiva nodded to him. Cerberus looked up expectantly. 

“Ohh, I’m sorry, bud. I’m afraid you can’t follow me…” Prompto patted his great head, tears running down his face. 

“I shall take care of him.” Shiva said, coming forward to lay a hand on Cerberus’s head. Prompto eyed her suspiciously. “He shall be reborn and loved more than he could ever imagine.” She finished with a warm smile, petting the beast’s muzzle. 

Prompto smiled through the tears. “Good. You earned it buddy.” He pressed his forehead to his friend’s before turning away to join his King. 

Inside, Prompto found the unconscious bodies of Ignis and Gladio on the floor of the throne room. Noctis stood with his back to the door, facing the throne. 

“Give me strength…” Noctis whispered to the blade before him. 

“I will.” Prompto said, coming up behind his best friend and laying a hand on his shoulder. Noctis turned to him, stunned. 

Without a word, Noctis wrapped his best friend in the tightest hug he had ever given, one that was gladly returned by Prompto. “You made it.” Noctis whispered into his shoulder. 

“Ever at your side.” Prompto replied as tears started down his face. He choked and the tears turned to sobs. “I’m so sorry, Noct...I’m sorry…” 

Noctis pulled away to gaze into his friend’s eyes. “It’s ok. You’re here now.” 

As the King of Light lifted his father’s blade to perform the final ritual, his best friend knelt before him. Prompto watched in horror as all the power of Eos converged on Noctis to kill him. With each new pain, Prompto held his hand a little bit tighter, until finally, all the pain was over, and Noct’s hand went limp. 

Black incor mixed with water flowed from Prompto’s brown eyes. His whole world was gone. 

The sky outside became tinged with pink as the sun made its return. The night was over and with it, the past was gone. Slowly, it chased down the excess of daemons, turning each it came across into ash. Many daemons ran from their fate, disappearing into the earth, until only one remained. 

Prompto stayed knelt before the once and forever King of Light, holding fast to his hand. As the sun broke through the broken ceiling of the throne room, his hair finally looked truly blond again. The pain over his skin didn’t bother him. There was nothing more to do now. No master to serve or friend to save. The world would soon forget all about daemons. But he had friends who would never forget him. And that is where he belonged. 

As his body began to crumble to ash, he couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll be by your side soon, Noct.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you "enjoyed" this piece!


End file.
